Shadows and Nightmares
by LadyorTiger
Summary: Adam gets kidnapped and held hostage, bringing up memories of his childhood. Mac comes to rescue him. M rating just in case. More inside...
1. Nightmares Come True

DISCLAIMER: Doesn't belong to me. Ever. Sorry. I wish.

If you don't like, sorry, review anyway. Flames just make me laugh...

***

He banged his head against the steering wheel. It was too early... he had been hoping to get some sleep before getting back into work - it had been a late night with a drug deal gone bad that turned into a triple homicide and he hadn't even gotten home till about one in the morning. If he closed his eyes he could still see them, lying on his table. Adam groaned, and turned off the ignition. The sun hadn't even come up yet, as if it too was dreading the idea of having to go through another day. He checked his watch, which confirmed his suspicions - it wasn't even five in the morning yet.

"Adam, Adam, Adam... you look like shit." he mumbled to himself. His face stared back in the mirror. His five o'clock shadow was prominent, as were the dark circles under his eyes that were making him look like he was wearing eye shadow. He brushed his hair out of his face, noting that the scars from the cigarette burns were fading, even if the nightmares that kept him up weren't. He blearily scrubbed his eyes again, then stepped out into the crisp New York air, grabbing his lab kit as he went. There was a middle-aged man lying in a lot, blood pooled and congealed under and around his head; or more accurately, the half of his head that didn't look like it had been bashed in with a baseball bat. Adam sighed, ducked under the yellow tape, and approached the body and the detective . "Hey Flack." he said, without enthusiasm. "We got a name?"

"Hey Adam. Sorry about this." Flack flicked through his memo book. "No name, no witnesses. A routine patrol car found our John Doe like this about half an hour ago, called it in." He sighed. "Basically, we got nothing, except what you can give us." Adam stared at the body lying in front of him.

"Well, no obvious weapon. The blood is congealed, and lividity marks are evident, but not pronounced. I would say he's been here for about four hours, give or take." he said, lifting the dead man's neck, which flopped slightly. "It would also appear that his neck is broken. Maybe post-mortem? I'll know more once he's back at the lab." he finished distractedly.

"Hey, you set here for a few minutes? There's a coffeeshop just around the corner, and I've been up for the past three hours. I'll grab you some, if you like." said Flack, getting up off of his knees. "Seriously, my eyes feel like they're fallin' out."

"Yeah, yeah." replied Adam, never taking his eyes off of the body. "Sure... uh, milk, no sugar, please. I'll pay you back?"

"Don't worry about it." said Flack. He stuck his book back in his belt, and jogged around the corner. The coffee shop had just opened, and no one but the owner was in there. "Two coffees." he said, tapping the counter with his fingers impatiently.

***

Adam stepped over the victim to kneel at the other side of his body. From this angle he was looking directly into the wound on the head of the victim. "Looks like a splinter, or something." he said to no one in particular. "Probably got his head smashed in with some sort of wooden club, or maybe a branch, or something.

"Hey," called a voice coming from the pre-dawn gloom.

"If I could just maybe get it out..." Adam concentration was unbroken as he pulled the splinter out of the dead man's brain.

"Hey, Mister! I got a question." The man's face was hooded by a red sweatshirt, but his voice was clear. He ducked under the yellow tape. "Hey!"

"No, n-no, sir, you need to get out of this, this roped-off area!" shouted Adam as he fervently wished that Flack were back by now. He got up from the crime scene hurriedly, going to cut off the man who was trampling his evidence. Adam was exhausted as well as almost done with his preliminaries, and all he wanted now was to get back to the lab, confirm his results, and finally get some sleep. "This is a crime scene, sir. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Adam put his hands out in front of him to block the other man who put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Sorry man, sorry. I just have one question." The hooded man drew a pistol from his waistband and held it right in front of Adam's face. "You wanna do this the hard way or the easy way?"

"W-what?" stuttered Adam, reaching for his phone with trembling finger and the intent of dialing Flack, when the man in front of him raised his hand and clubbed Adam in the head with the end of his pistol, laying the younger man out unconscious on the ground, his phone tumbling from his senseless fingers.

"Dammit." muttered the man, kicking the body out of his way. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?" he yelled.

"Just take the damn lab rat too." said a voice from behind him. "Hurry up, or you'll have to face down a cop. I assure you that he won't be as easy to assault." The voice came from a second man, dressed in an identical red sweatshirt. "Hurry up, dammit. At least now we might have a tool to ransom with. At least we will as soon as we get him into the truck."

The two men worked silently and quickly, first moving the John Doe into the van they drove, then dragging Adam. In about two minutes, the only thing to say they were ever there was the broken crime scene tape which fluttered sporadically in the early breeze, another blood smudge, and the complete lack of any body in the chalk outline.

***

"Sorry Adam, I forgot the milk." came Flack's voice as he rounded the corner. "You should try it black anyway, this is some of the best tasti-" his voice died as he looked at the scene in front of him. "Adam?" He said. "This is isn't funny, Adam. What did you do?" He looked around him, then set down the coffee on the top of his patrol car. "Adam?" he yelled, while pulling out his cellphone. He punched in Adam's cell number, then held it up to it's ear.

"Hi. This is Adam-" said a voice on the other end.

"Where the hell are you, Adam?" hissed Flack.

"I'm not here right now, but you can leave a message, and I'll be sure to call you back." The beep sounded in Flack's ear as he swore and slammed his cell closed. He started walked towards the place where the body was when he noticed something at his feet. He knelt, and picked up Adam's cell, sticky with blood.

"Dammit, Adam," he swore under his breath and grabbed his radio. "11-99, I repeat, 11-99, officer involved. Need back-up and a CSI down here now." He put the radio down as it crackled back into life, cops talking fast back and forth. Flack listened to it for a minute or two, then satisfied that it was proceeding, grabbed his cell phone again. "Mac? Dammit, Mac. It's Don. You need to get here - something's happened to Adam."

***

Well. Do you like it? Anything? Please? Reviews are what I live on... please?


	2. Helpless

DISCLAIMER: None of this is mine, sadly. CSI: NY or any of it's characters do not belong to me. At all.

Hello folks! Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers. fwuzzfwuzz, LiLAqUaMaRiE, clf1991, vanpatt5.

To answer a few questions:

I don't think that this will be slash. In fact, I sincerely doubt it. There may be a little more than friends instances, and there will most definitely be bonding.

***

Mac rubbed his eyes. It had been a long night. He had stayed to catalogue some evidence and was still there, hours later. It had been happening more and more often lately, when he didn't want to try and face another empty apartment. After Peyton... he groaned. He didn't even want to think about it. He knew that this approach wasn't probably the best, but he didn't have the energy to face up to his personal demons right then and there. He was leaning in to concentrate on the DNA sample in front of him when his phone buzzed. The detective glanced at the clock - 4:53 a.m., then focused on the caller ID: Don Flack. He picked it up and flipped it open. "Don?"

"Mac?" came the voice on the other end, made tinny through the bad connection.

"Yeah, it's almost five in the morning." replied Mac, a yawn almost escaping.

"Dammit, Mac. It's Don. You need to get here - something's happened to Adam." Flack disconnected, but Mac still held the phone. The beeping finally woke him from his inaction, and he flipped his phone shut and put it down, but didn't get up. Finally, as though something was breaking free, he slammed his fist against the counter. Normally he didn't show emotion, but he was tired, and there was no one to see him. Besides, he was angry now - angry with himself. He had gotten that call, the call about the DB on Baker Street - the one that Adam had responded too.

"Adam... dammit. Adam. What have I done?" muttered Mac, rubbing his eyes again, then grabbing his badge and gun and getting ready to head out. On some level he knew that it didn't make sense to blame himself for not answering that call, but he was tired and worried, and he also knew that if anything happened to Adam he might never forgive himself for not answering that call. _Please, please be okay. I don't know how much more of this I can take._ He took one more deep breath, then walked out of his lab into a New York City morning.

***

Adam woke up. Immediately, there was pain. He groaned as the throbbing in his head made itself known, as well as what felt like bruises on over half of his body. His hands were taped together, and he had something over his head. A sack, or a black bag? He tried to stop from panicking. He knew that if he started hyperventilating then the bag might suffocate him, then he would really be in trouble. He shifted in the limited space, and his hands hit something cold and sticky. He gagged as he realized that the sticky substance was blood, and the cold thing was most likely a dead body.

"Can't throw up, can't throw up, can't..." groaned Adam. He didn't want to die in his own vomit. "You've made it through worse than this. You have. Just... don't throw up." He whispered his mantra over and over in the dark as the van lurched and trundled through the New York City streets.

***

"What have we got, Flack?" asked Mac, looking at the scene in front of him. Cops hurried to and fro, talking into walkie-talkies and interviewing possible witnesses - of which, Mac noticed, there were few. Almost no one was walking around at 4:30 in the morning, and of those even fewer were willing to step forward and talk to the police, especially in this part of town.

"To be honest, Mac? Nothing." Flack was flipping through his memo book with the desperation of those clinging to routine. "I sent Adam's phone down to the lab. I'm hoping that we'll find something on it that doesn't belong to Adam, maybe give us a lead. Other than that?" He shook his head. "No one saw anything. My people are running the cameras, but so far: nothing." He looked around, then leaned in. "Look, Mac. We might have to wait for a ransom note, or something. There's must be a reason why they took him." Mac glared at him.

"The evidence tells us everything we need, so that is what we will follow in the absence of any other leads, Detective Flack." Flack looked at him for a second or two, then nodded and walked away.

Mac leaned against the patrol car. He shouldn't have reprimanded Flack. He knew that the younger man was just doing his job, he knew that he ought to go home, get some sleep, and wait, but... dammit. This felt personal. He looked grimly at the scene in front of him. If they couldn't find anything on the men who had done this, then they were in trouble, or, more accurately, Adam was in trouble. A lot of trouble.

A steaming cup of coffee was shoved in front of him. "You look like you could use it." said Stella, handing it to him. "Sorry I'm late - I came as soon as I heard. Any luck here?" Mac shook his head mutely. "Cat got your tongue?" said Stella, half-laughing, half-questioning.

"I heard... I heard the call for this, but I let Adam take it. If something happens to him.." Mac shook his head again. "I can't lose any more people, Stella. I won't lose any more people. Not if I can do anything to stop it." He sipped the coffee. "We're going to head back to the lab, see if they've got anything."

The car ride was mostly silent. The tension was palpable with Mac focusing on the road, and Stella silent. When they finally arrived, Mac turned off the ignition and sat for a second or two with Stella. She broke the silence first.

"Mac." she started.

"Stella, right now..." he paused. "Right now, we're just going to focus on finding Adam."

"As soon as we get him back, though." insisted Stella. "Seriously Mac. I'm worried about you. You obviously haven't been sleeping, you haven't gone home. You worked all night." She looked at him. "Promise me you'll talk to someone."

"Fine." He looked at her in frustration. "Now can we find our technician who," he checked his watch, "has been missing for over three hours?"

***

There was light.

Adam blinked, the light shooting starbursts of pain through his head. His hands were still tied, and now his feet were too. He licked his dry lips, and tried to asses the situation, like they had been taught. He was in a room? Yeah, a pretty dark room. The plastic covering the only window and the dirt and tarps suggested it was a basement in a house that hadn't been open for a long time, maybe been closed for renovation. In fact, it looked kind of deserted, the perfect headquarters for -

"Hey, look! The lab rat woke up!" came a voice, a voice that Adam recognized. The man yelling was the same man who had smashed his head back at the lot. The men came into his line of sight, and he realized that he had been right. It was the perfect headquarters for a gang, and that was exactly what these men seemed to be. Their unifying factor appeared a red sweatshirt, but the guns that they carried all matched as well.

"Who.. who are you?" whispered Adam.

"I don't think you need to know that, Mr..." the tallest guy leaned in and read Adam's name tag. "Mr. Ross. Mr. Adam Ross. What a lovely name." His voice was friendly, but his eyes weren't. "You know something, Adam? I don't like it," he punched Adam in the stomach viciously and without warning, "when people ask me questions." He stood up, and smiled. "As it happens, a couple of my friends got picked up by a few of your friends." These last two words were punctuated with kicks to Adam's ribs. "And you're going to get them back for us. Or..." The man started walking away. "Or everyone goes home unhappy, Mr. Ross. At least, everyone except you."

"What.." Adam's voice was shaking. "What do you mean?"

"It may just be an idea of mine, but I don't think people can be unhappy when they're dead." said the other man casually. "I hate cops, so I'm sort of looking forward to it."

"To what?" asked Adam faintly.

"To watching you die."

***

So please, review. Next chapter will probably either be Mac trying to rescue Adam or reminiscing about Adam's childhood.

Don't forget about the reviewing part, please?


	3. Alone?

**DISCLAIMER: As for CSI:NY, none of it is mine. If it was, I would have so much fun with them! But it's not. And I am not a television billionaire... alas for the hard truths in life.**

Thank you to my many many reviewers! It really means a lot. Sorry this took a while, but I hope you like it. Don't forget the review part... :)

* * *

***

* * *

Stella and Mac walked into the lab together, looking for the team. The conversation from the car had left a slight tension between the two friends, a silent and unspoken agreement that somethin wasn't quite right between them.

"There's Danny." said Stella, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"There you are! I've been lookin' for you." said Danny, almost walking into the pair of them. "We got something. It ain't much, but it's something." He turned on his heels and started hurrying back to the lab, indicating that the other two ought to follow him.

"I'm listening." said Mac, his stride matching Danny's as Stella scrambled to keep up. Danny looked back at his boss. Was it just him or did Mac sound more frustrated than usual? He knew that this was a hard case - it was one of their own after all, but he was surprised. Mac was usually so calm, that to see this intensity portrayed so obviously on his face unnerved him a little. "Well?" Mac prompted. They had arrived at the lab, pushing the doors open and going in to find Lindsay examining the cell phone that they had found. "What do you have?"

"Alright, so we got the blood off of the phone, right? We figured it was probably from when our mystery man pummeled... well, when Adam got hit, right? Well, our mystery man wasn't wearing gloves, so our mystery man is not longer a mystery man." Danny picked up a file in the table in front of him. "Gabriel Mark. He was in the hospital after that suspected gang shoot-out a week or two ago. We think," and here he tapped the analyzation of the blood composition that lay on the desk, "we think that maybe he busted his stitches when he was knocking around Adam.

"Not only that, but our Mr. Mark was involved in some pretty bad stuff lately. In fact, the narcotic cops that I spoke to said they thought that he was either head of or maybe involved in the new gang that's starting up downtown. They said they brought in two of them this morning or yesterday on charges of assault and battery. The Red Inks? Or something like that." added Lindsay, absentmindedly running her hands through her hair. "Does this help?" she asked, after a silence of a second or two. Her voice betrayed her as it cracked a little at the end of the sentence, and she turned away to get herself under control. She hated showing weakness like this, but this... this wasn't every case. "We're going to get him, right? I mean, he's going to be okay." Danny put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I was with him, remember? Adam's tough. He'll be okay." He drew her into a hug so she wouldn't see the worry that was on his face, and looked towards Mac and Stella. "He's going to be okay. He's going to be fine."

Mac took a deep breath. He knew he was thinking the same as Danny - it had only been a little while since Adam had been held captive by a different gang, and neither of them knew how much more the young man could take.

"I'll ask Flack if he can get a chat with the two men that Narc brought in, find out who they are, what they know. Lindsey - I want to know everything about this Gabriel Mark. Where he lives, where he eats, where he works - anything that could help us find this guy. Danny, why don't you work through any and all footage that we got from around the scene. Maybe they weren't so careful. Sheldon," Mac gestured to the young man who had just arrived, with a face as panicked as everyone else's.

"I'm sorry, It was my day off..." he said, his voice catching as he breathed heavily, "I came as soon as I heard."

"Sheldon, check out the pictures of the DB that Adam was looking at before he disappeared. It may have something to do with this whole thing. If we can get an ID, we're that much closer to finding Adam."

"I'm on it." said Sheldon, already turning back, his white lab coat swirling around him as he hurried off, following Lindsey who had already left.

"Mac." Danny was still there, his arms crossed, looking at him. Stella had left to find Flack, leaving only Danny and Mac standing still in the hallway. People were streaming past on every side, but there was an eddy in the current where the two men stood, a place that those walking by instinctively avoided as if the tension in the atmosphere was palpable. "Mac, I was with Adam, you know... that time. He's a good kind, but..." The New Yorker took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "He's not made out for this kind of thing. Hell, none of us are, but Adam... if we don't find him soon-"

"I know Danny." Mac's eyes were staring straight at the younger man, but weren't seeing him. "I know." He left it unspoken, but the fear was there: if they didn't find their friend soon, he might never be the same. That was, assuming he was still alive for the finding.

* * *

***

* * *

Adam woke to the taste of blood in his mouth. Everything hurt. He wasn't sure what time it was outside, and how long he had been here. _Too long _was the only though that his mind could come up with. He was tired - tired of pretending that he was somewhere else, somewhere where people weren't kicking him and hitting him just for the fun of it. Somewhere where people weren't burning his hands with lighters and his cutting his arms just to watch his face as the pain throbbed behind his eyes, coming from every exhausted part of him. He had had this nightmare before, and it didn't end well.

"Anyone?" he whispered, to himself. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only who heard it. Adam remembered the big man who had threatened to kill him. Threatened wasn't really the word, to be honest. It was more... promised. Adam was fine with threats. Promises on the other hand... promises could be nasty. He remembered one promise his father had made him... His brain trailed off because the man (who even looked a little like his father, now that he thought about it) was now looming over him.

"You looking for your friends?" he said, giving Adam a less than gentle nudge with his steel-toed boots. Adam tried to concentrate. Hadn't someone called him Gabe? Yeah, that was his name. "Well, personally, if it was me and it took them this long to come after me, I'd say they weren't really looking. Maybe they didn't notice you were gone... either that or maybe," a smile crept onto his face, "maybe they just don't care. Hell, I wouldn't. All you do is sit and whimper. You're like a puppy, and less useful." He squatted in front of Adam. "At least puppies bite back."

Adam watched the big man in front of him through half shut eyes. He already had at least three bruises on his face because 'Gabe' had gotten annoyed, and he wasn't going to risk another.

"You know, I hear they drown puppies when there are too many. When they're useless. To be honest though, I don't think your worth the effort. " He smiled and stood back up. "But it would be fun to watch. I'll think about it."

"When they... get here they're going to... kill you." said Adam with some effort. His mouth was dry as paper, and he was pretty sure that he had at least one, but maybe two broken ribs.

"Well, we have you. I think they'll probably want you back, although I don't see why. Besides, we can trade you for a buddy of mine, and after that, safe passage out of here. We cross the river, make a name for ourselves and soon we'll be back. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." The man almost sounded like he was having a friendly conversation. His tone wouldn't have been out of place at a breakfast table. If Adam had just been watching his face and listening to his voice rather than hearing the words he would've thought that the man was asking if he had any plans for the upcoming holidays, or how his classes had gone that past week. The glint in the man's eye was disturbing, and by now Adam was almost certain that he was seriously mentally ill, is not downright deranged. Adam was also certain that by now the man had made number two on his list of people that he hated most in the world. The number one spot had been filed long ago, but he was pretty sure that Gabe was a exceedingly close second.

"If they don't... I will." Adam muttered.

"No you won't." said Gabe, who had turned away but turned back now to look at the bound figure on the floor. "You can't do anything." He smiled at Adam beatifically, then reached down and slammed Adam's head against the wall. "Even if you could, you wouldn't. You want to know why?" He repeated his action, and this time when he let go Adam slid down into the fetal position, not unconscious but unable or unwilling to move. "Because you're a coward." Gabe looked at him again, and shook his head as he turned to walk away. "You're just a coward."

* * *

***

* * *

Mac sat at his desk. It was dark. He looked at his watch, daring it to admit that it was lying, hoping that it didn't say what it did. If his watch was right then Adam had been missing for over fourteen hours, and that was an unpleasant truth that Mac did not feel like admitting right now. In fact, there were a lot of unpleasant things that he was pretty sure that he didn't want to admit right now, let alone think about, but he was pretty sure that his head was not listening. He knew that he ought to get some sleep but... he couldn't sleep now.

_ Why didn't I answer that call? _His head repeated it over and over again. Is was preferable to thinking about Peyton, but only slightly. Somewhere in the back of his head, he understood that he was trying to cope with his underlying feelings of insecurity. The degree on his desk that he had slaved away for in school and going back to it after the marines, informed him that he was probably dealing with feelings of loss and abandonment, and some synapse in his brain was recognizing Peyton's departure as synonymous with Claire... which was a whole can of worms he most definitely did not want to open now. Mac sighed with frustration, rubbing his face with his hands. Adam needed him focused right now. He needed to focused, he needed to -

"Mac?" It was Stella. "We're heading out." She held up a sheet of paper and a tight smile flashed on her face. "We've got an address."

* * *

***

* * *

Poor Adam... So, it's moving a little slower than I thought, but reviews, thoughts, and reflections are all welcome. If I get some reviews perhaps... another chapter in a day or two? Who knows where we could end up...


	4. Cowardice and Fear

DISCLAIMER: None of it is mine. If it was, I would have so much fun with them! But it's not. And I am not a television billionaire... alas for the hard truths in life.

So I have returned after a little while longer than I thought. Anyway, here it is. I'm not totally happy with this chapter, but the plot bunnies were adamant. And it's laying a good foundation...

Again, thanks to my lovely, fantastic, amazing reviewers. You are the light of my life... much much thanks. I am sorry if I did not thank you personally, but thank you. It means a lot, and is very helpful.

***

"Mac?" It was Stella. "We're heading out." She held up a sheet of paper and a tight smile flashed on her face. "We've got an address."

Mac was jerked out of his reverie and looked at Stella in surprise. "That was fast." he commented, shutting his laptop and grabbing his cost. Stella stood to the side as Mac left his office, flicking the lights off as he shrugged on his coat in preparation for the bitter wind outside. "Who found it?" he said distractedly as he struggled with his coat while they strode down the hall, towards the exit.

"Flack got it out of those two from the gang that narcotics arrested the other day. They weren't talking, so he put them together and one of them starts talking about an 'abandoned construction site' when the other tells him to stop talking. So, Sheldon put two and two together when he checked their arrest record. It turns out they were first sighted downtown, three blocks from some warehouse that financier tried to turn into a mansion. He gets convicted for fraud, and the property gets foreclosed on a week or two later." Stella was ticking off her points of explanation on her fingers as they walked. "Apparently the bank just locked the door and left it. Construction had been in full swing, but it's been boarded up now for upwards of three months. It fits the description, and the location makes sense too. It's surrounded by nothing on one side, and empty foreclosures on the second. It's perfect gang territory." She finished breathlessly as they got to the doors. Once outside, they were confronted with a throng of nervous activity.

There were three black and whites, two with their doors open and their drivers talking hurriedly. The detectives spotted their ride, a government issued black SUV, parked next to a S.W.A.T. van. Men and women were milling around, putting on bulletproof vests and checking their equipment to make sure that it was working properly. Several were talking into cell phones, giving orders with voices that oozed purpose and authority. A voice came from within the crowd, and a cop that both of the detectives knew struggled through the masses gathered to greet the two of them.

"Mac!" Don Flack said, nodding to Stella simultaneously. "We were just waiting for you." He tossed a set of keys to Mac, who deftly caught them. Stella, attention caught by another officer, signaled to Mac to keep going, and that she would catch a different ride. "We're about to head out."

"Why is S.W.A.T. here?" asked Mac, pressing the button to unlock the SUV's doors. Flack ducked his head to get in the passenger side, and they both buckled their seat belts as Mac put the key in the ignition and turned it.

"Other than that this may be a hostage situation with an officer involved? Well, this gang," Don stared out at the passing buildings for a few seconds before continuing. "I mean, Mac, a few months ago, no one even knows their name. All of a sudden we got three dead bodies in a river, a hijacked shipment of private firearms, and a new threat downtown. Since then?" He shook his head slightly. " Not counting the body that disappeared with Adam yesterday, we got at least ten more from various shootouts and territory squabbles. All that, and that's just what we know about. I heard a statistic about gangs the other day, says for roughly every body we find, there's two more we don't know about, or don't connect it with. Anyway, point is they've been real busy and narcotics is leaping at the chance to take them down before they get any bigger. They've lent us the firepower for a day."

Mac nodded, his face blank as he absorbed this new information. Anything could be important, later on. "Flack," he paused for a moment, his eyes still on the road. "I wanted to apologize for -" but the other man cut him off.

"Forget about it. Everyone's under a lot of stress." Mac glanced over at the younger man, his lips pressed tight in a smile with a hint of gratitude. The effect was spoiled by the deep creases of worry in his forehead, and he looked away after only a second. Flack stared at the detective, noticing the circles under his eyes and the slight stubble on his chin. "Hey, he'll be there. We're going to find him." said Don. "He's going to be okay."

***

One of Adam's eyes had swollen shut, and he had a cut above the other that was slowly dripping. Almost everyone was sleeping, other than the lookout, who was sitting on the opposite wall, smoking. In the past few hours Adam had managed to inch over to the corner, so that his back was against two walls. As long as he didn't move anything the pain was just a dull ache. Earlier he tried to shift so as to miss a kick aimed at him and had nearly passed out from the resulting wave of pain. He compensated for it by curling into the corner, making himself as small a target as he could be. The lookout had finally fallen asleep, his cigarette smoldering slowly in his hand.

Adam turned his head slowly, looking at those who lay around him, asleep. If he... he could walk out. He could leave. No one was watching him now. He tried. He tried to make his legs stand, tried to take the few steps to the door that was right there, at his fingertips... and he couldn't. He couldn't make himself move. He was too afraid to move, too afraid that he would be in trouble, he would be beaten again.

The guard yelped and clutched his hand, dropping the cigarette that had burned him. "Shit." he whispered harshly, keeping his voice down so as not to wake anyone else. A few people stirred, but no one woke. The guard looked around resentfully, his gaze finally landing on Adam. "You think it's funny, rat?" A look of disgust formed on his face. "How do you like it?" He picked up the still burning cigarette and walked over to Adam and ground it into his arm. Adam whimpered, and hated himself for it. The lookout, bored now, threw the cigarette, no longer lit, at Adam, and started his rounds.

Adam sat there, the adrenaline the pain had caused subsiding now, and remembered Gabriel's words, scarily similar to words he remembered, words from a nightmare.

_A man, a tall man with a belt, shouting at him, and he was hiding, hiding in a corner. It was the corner of a closet, the door slightly cracked, and he was trying to shrink, trying to be as invisible as possible. The man saw the door, saw him, slammed the closet door shut, and now it was dark and he couldn't see, but he could hear, he could hear everything. "You gonna hide for your whole life? You want to be a sissy, be one. You'll never be anything else." A kick slammed into the door, making it shiver. "You're just a coward."_

"He was right." Adam whispered to himself, his head on his arms. "Just a coward."

***

They arrived. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. Everything looked so... peaceful and quiet. Serene. The only sound was the crunch of tires and boots on gravel. For a second Mac hesitated. Was this it? He couldn't tell. The adrenaline was running out, and soon there wouldn't be any and he would be running on empty. He wasn't sure if this was the right place, if he had made a mistake. He shook his head to snap out of it, and stepped out of the S.U.V., blinking at the harsh light. S.W.A.T. was preparing to surround the building. Flack motioned to Mac. "If we're lucky they still don't know that we're here, and we can take them by surprise." he said, his voice quiet.

"We do this one by the book." whispered Mac. "We utilize S.W.A.T. first, try and prevent any sort of a hostage situation from developing." Flack nodded, and started walking away. "Don," Mac interrupted Flack, who turned back to face the detective, one hand out, gesturing to the cops behind him to wait. "if it does... If this goes south? I'm not taking any chances. Everyone backs down. No matter what, we get him back."

"Understood." said Flack, with a wry half-smile. He strode off in search for the S.W.A.T. team, making sure that they knew what was supposed to be going on, as Mac turned to examine the building. The most striking thing about it was that it was grey. Even the dust that was layered on every on the grey cement was grey. It had settled on the doors and the windows, all of which had clumsily nail in boards crisscrossing them. It looked deserted. The only noise now was the sound of traffic drifting over from Main Street, the sound of New York waking up - not that it ever really went to sleep, Mac reflected.

"Hey." it was Stella. She was holding a styrofoam cup, curls of steam wafting into the cold morning air. "Someone had the foresight to bring coffee. I thought that you could use some." She offered it to him, and Mac took his hands out of his pockets, gratefully accepting. They stood in silence for a second, the tension in the air almost thick enough to cut as they watched S.W.A.T. deploy silently and strategically around the building. "So, what do you think?" asked Stella finally. "We got the right-" she was cut off by the eruption of sound from the other side of the building.

***

Adam had finally drifted to sleep, breathing uneasily through nightmares. He was awoken by the sound of yelling. He was disoriented and couldn't understand what was going on. People were rushing around with guns, tripping over sleeping people, waking everyone up. There was a lot of shouting too. He tried to concentrate, but his vision was going in and out of focus and he had a killer headache. He decided to dismiss it, and tried to ignore the sounds that were erupting all around him. No gunfire. Screams and shouts, but no gunfire. Why? He couldn't think. He was trying to think, but he couldn't. _You're useless, _he thought, over and over again. His mantra was interrupted by Gabe, who had come over to his corner.

"Looks like they came for you after all. I mean, I don't know about you, but I was starting to wonder." He nudged Adam with his foot. "I was wondering whether they thought it was worth it. I guess they did, huh?" He _tsked_ quietly. "No accounting for taste. Anyway, just thought you ought to know, you try anything, and it's..." he put two fingers to Adam's temple and pantomimed firing. "Pow." he said softly. "Lights out." He smiled and patted Adam on the cheek. "You be good now, and don't try anything you would regret and you won't get hurt." He looked at Adam for a second or two before walking away, towards the door. he opened it a little, looked out and started shouting.

"Everyone backs off right now!" he shouted, his voice breaking through the morning air. "Everyone walks away, hands where we can see them, or people start dying... starting with your lab rat here."

***

So, folks. Read and review? I'm looking to update sometime in the next few days. My schedule got really hectic for a while, but it ought to be better now.

Don't forget the reviewing?


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